The man of 42 seconds later
by Zantetsuken Reverse
Summary: Formerly a one-shot, now an infrequently updated group of semi-related one-shots. The Prime Minister meets England for the first time. UP FOR ADOPTION!
1. Chapter 1

Yes, I know that I really should get a move on in writing my other fics, but I just couldn't resist.

About Iggy's dislike of the Ministry- Iggy likes magic. He likes wizards. But he hates the racism that splits his people (not just pureblood/mudblood, but also muggle/halfbreed/wizard), and so he likes the less blatantly corrupt muggle government. As a side note, I know nothing of politics other than wizard politics, so I can't really tell how bad it is anywhere else in the world.

The man of fourty-two seconds later.

The Prime Minister was not having a good first day. Just fifteen seconds ago, the Minister of Magic had left the room with a bang, leaving only a gerbil that used to be his teacup behind. The ugly portrait that announced his arrival was still there, and he couldn't take it off. And on top of it all, he had lost his car keys.

"Minister?" Doris, his assistant, cracked open the door. "There's a man waiting to see you. And he's not taking no for an answer!"

Again? Hadn't Fudge had enough? "I'm busy, send him out,"

"Yessir," She scampered.

_This is not my day_, he thought.

Doris came in again. "Sir? He left, but he said that he was coming in anyway, and that you better be ready by the time he's here," Again, she shut the door and left. Why was this man so determined? Of all the-

"Hello, William [1]," An unfamiliar voice called from the window.

"GYAH!" How did this guy get in? "Wh-who are you?"

The man sighed, as if to say, 'here we go again'. "To make a long story short, I'm England," …What? "And judging by the fact that you're handling it so well, you've probably met Cornelius by now. Spineless git,"

"Er… What?" For some reason, William almost believed him. "You're claiming that you're… Engl-"

"Never mind," The man looked into his eyes and stared. At once the Prime Minister knew. He saw- no, _felt_- the memories, the wisdom, the emotions of his homeland. He was England. He was the green fields, the smoggy factories, the magic and the nonmagic.

"You… really are England," murmured William.

England smiled. "And you're my new boss," he paused for a moment. "Along with Cornelius, you are. I just hope that you're not as spineless as those gits at the Ministry,"

Spineless? He barged in on me, told me that wizards existed, and turned my teacup into a gerbil! Did the man have no shame?

"What I meant was that they do things that completely disregard those who they think are inferior, which includes just about everyone who does not conform to their standards. To them, you're just another nonmagical inferior whom they treat like a message board, to give notes to every time they do something that you HAVE to know about, legally speaking. You're not a human being to them, just a legal inconvenience,"

As soon as he said those words, I knew them to be true. Fudge never visited me to promote relations; he didn't even visit me to tell me anything. He only visited because he had to. "So we're… puppets to the wizards,"

England shook his head. "Not all of them. And only if you let them." He put his hand on William's shoulder in an almost fatherly way. "You're the Prime Minister, and my boss. Cornelius may be the Minister of Magic, but your word is stronger than his. Nonmagical people outnumber wizards, and while they have wands, you have machine guns."

…What? "Er, did you just say… machine guns?" I half-expected him to say something like 'heart', 'courage', or maybe even 'a larger population'. But why machine guns?

"Yes, I did say machine guns, what did you think I said?" He gave it a bit more thought. "Well, at the very least, you are no one's puppet as long as you stay strong. You're just as decent a man as any, and I look forward to your ideas on the economy [2]. Maybe we'll have some tea later. Bye," he jumped out the window.

The Prime Minister sat back down. Now that England left, he had time to think. He was right about Fudge meeting with him because it was a tradition, but what about him? Did England visit because he had to, too? No, he thought. He had a reason, but whatever it was, it wasn't that. He looked up, and smiled. He was going to fix things.

THE END

[1] William- I looked up the Prime Minister on Harry Potter Wiki, and found out that he wasn't an actual person, just a conveniently unnamed character.

[2] Economy- Like I said in the Author's note at the top, I don't know anything about what's happening in the world, so I don't know how bad the economy was then, or even if it was bad at all.

Well, I have a few more comments. Some of you might have read a few 'England appears to important figures, and leaves without a trace' fics, but I figured that he wouldn't do that to his boss. Plus, in order for Iggy to do that, the Prime Minister would have to look away.

I had Doris named Janis, but Doris sounds much more secretary-like.


	2. Chapter 2

Someone requested that I continue, so this is the result. I might do another chapter, but this isn't a regular update. Scrimgeour is hard to write, since he appears only in the sixth book at the start and finish. I see him as a more orderly man than Fudge, but still racist.

The Prime Minister himself is OOC, but since he's a minor character, and England inspired him, so I hope none of you mind.

I don't know what the Prime Minister's office looks like, but this is fanFICTION, so I took some liberties to reflect the mood.

One more thing. I can't write like what a politician would speak, or any fully mature adult for that matter. I'm not that experienced.

The man of 43 seconds later

Order Prudence to send out memos- check.

Give speech, written by Paine- check.

Do paperwork- check.

Visit muggle Prime Minister- not yet.

"Prudence, I'm going to visit the muggle Prime Minister. Hold my calls, sort out any memos that come in, and I expect an Earl Gray by the time I get back," I watched Prudence scurry away as the flames burst into existence. The girl looked worried, but I thought nothing of it. Muggles were weak creatures, and they were lucky that we wizards had to time to deal with them. I stepped into the emerald fire.

As the flames subsided, I noticed the furnishings of the Prime Minister's room. The walls still held shades of past luxury, but there was nothing left of former riches, if any existed at all. It appeared that most of the furniture was sold not long ago, replaced by cheap replicas. The only piece of furniture that remained was a polished wooden desk, where the Prime Minister sat opposite a ragged man.

None of this lined up with what I learned about muggles. Muggles lived dull lives and worked to serve the superiors, rich muggles or wizards. The few who knew about magic, or at least believed in it, thought that it could solve everything [1]. But this muggle… he stood there like a true wizard, knowing that nothing could fix everything without work and dedication, not even magic.

But still, I am a wizard, and I will guide him through this time. "So," I began. "You are the muggle Prime Minister?"

The muggle stood up. "Can't you see that we're in the middle of a conversation?"

The other man turned towards me just enough for me to see his face. Fudge.

"What are you doing here? You lost your job, so get on out."

"You lost your job?" The Prime Minister shot a startled look at Fudge.

"Yesterday morning. Now you must leave. I am the new Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeor. Now get out,"

"You can't order people out of my office!" The Minister bellowed.

"He is not the Minister, therefore he has no right to be in your office," I concluded.

"By whose rights! Just because you're a wizard and you have your own separate government, you have the authority to override my rights? It's a free country!"

…I couldn't find an argument to that. Well, having Fudge here isn't a problem. After all, he already knows. "He-who-must-not-be-named is back,"

His gloomy expression did not change. "Fudge already told me that. What else?"

"… We are entering marshal law. I advise you to do the same," I never planned on saying that, but this muggle's attitude forced me in order to maintain face.

"For what reason exactly should I do this?" he replied coldly. "None of us would betray ourselves to a tyrant, especially one so much like Hitler,"

"Hitler was a muggle ruler of Germany, am I correct?" I did not see why he drew such contempt at his name.

"He was just as bad as your Voldemort!" he snapped. "Maybe worse! If you don't know what he did, then you're the one who needs to know more!"

What? This man dares challenge me? "You- He is the worst thing that could happen to the world! He kills anyone who gets in his way, including innocent bystanders!"

"You are under the impression that we muggles are helpless, mollycoddled sheep! None of us have ever escaped the tidings of war, and you just waltz in and tell us that this Hitler-wannabe worse than anything we've ever seen?"

"You're underestimating the Dark Lord!"

"London was Blitzed! My great-grandparents died when my grandmother was a child!"

"He can kill with only a single curse! And his followers can, too!"

"A single curse, can he?" He began, his voice filled with cold fury. "So can I,"

What? This man was mad. "You're saying that you can kill someone with a curse. Muggles can't use magic," I said like a teacher educating a schoolboy.

"I may not be able to use magic, but-" he picked something out of the desk, "I can use this." He held a complex steel instrument that meant nothing to me at all. It had no trace of magic or anything that looked even remotely harmful, not counting the fact that it was solid metal.

Fudge choked. "Th-that's a machine gun, isn't it?"

"I'm glad you took my advice, William," A voice came from the corner.

"Wh- You!" Both Fudge and the Prime Minister gasped in unison.

I turned towards him. A young man was standing there, holding a cup of tea. Despite his apparent youth, I felt an aura of power surrounding him. "Hello, Rufus."

Who was this man, to refer to me so casually? "Who are you?"

"I'm England," …what?

"Long story. VERY long story," Fudge muttered with a resigned tone.

"You never said anything about this," I retorted.

"That's why I'm here in the first place! You're my new boss, along with William here, and as nations, we have to tell our bosses about us,"

"Wait, there are more of you?" said the muggle Prime Minister.

"You thought that I was the only one?"

"Er… Yes, as a matter of fact,"

"You claim to be an island," I said.

"…Well, if you put it that way…" He stared into my eyes, and- A hundred knights stood on the hill, ready for combat- The Tower of London loomed overhead, prisoners awaiting execution- A young man eating a green apple turned, saw- a fleet of ships, cannons firing and privateers looting-( No! Use Occlumency!) Green fields, a breeze gently blowing potato leaves- A small teashop, a man doing the crossword sitting opposite a woman eating a scone- He was all of this. England.

"Did I look like that when you did that to me?" the muggle Prime Minister said to England.

"Yes," he replied curtly. "Your expression was quite like a teenager on LSD,"

"… Can we go back to our conversation?"I asked thickly.

"Well," England began, "I agree with both of you. The problem is, neither of you really understand each other. You've," he nodded to the Prime Minister, "never known magic or faced danger head-on, while you," he nodded at me, "look at muggles- or anyone who isn't a normal wizard, for that matter- as inferior, and don't take their thoughts in your grand scheme,"

"What about Fudge?" I retorted.

"You shut your eyes on the suffering of everyone, denied both your instincts and your hopes, and you let your fish die after not feeding it for a month when you were six,"

Fudge looked abashed. "How did you know about Mr. Giggles?"

"Maybe it's because I'm ENGLAND?" he said sarcastically.

"Right, sorry,"

"Anyway, the two of you need to work out your differences. Voldemort is still gaining power, and right now arguing will only give him more time and power. You need to make a decision, or else,"

"Can't you give us any advice?" the Prime Minister asked.

He shook his head. "Only what a human can know. I mean," he caught himself, "Because I'm England, I know about anything that happens here, but I can't tell humans about it without one of my citizens knowing. But if I discover information by conventional methods, like spying," ("That's not very conventional," muttered the Prime Minister. "Shush!" I hissed.) "Then I am free to tell you about it. As for advice, I can only tell you what you already know,"

"Wait," I said, "I did not know about the Prime Minister not facing danger, so how could you-"

"You may not know, but he knows, therefore I can tell you," he finished. He went over to the window and opened it. "Remember what I said, try to look at the other sides of the issue," he jumped out.

"Why does he always do this?" the Prime Minister muttered.

"If the Ministry had windows, he would have done that to me, too," Fudge remarked.

"In that case, we should work something out, shouldn't we,"

END

[1] _People who know about magic, or at least believe in it- _About the 'believe' part- what he's saying is people who have never seen anything magical but still believe in it, as opposed to seeing, say, a unicorn and then realizing that magic is real.


	3. Chapter 3

THIS FIC IS UP FOR ADOPTION! YOU DON'T HAVE TO PM ME TO WRITE, ANYONE CAN DO THEIRS. I'M SORRY; THERE IS NOTHING THAT CAN CHANGE MY MIND EXCEPT INSPIRATION.

This fic was meant to be a one-shot, so it had nowhere to go. For now, here's the last one I'll ever make.

The man of one week earlier

The day I met my country was memorable, to say the least. I was so busy with paperwork and the Restoration of the Wizarding World that I didn't even go into my office until a week after I was elected. And when I finally got there, someone was already there.

"About time you got here," A voice came from the chair in the corner. Instinctively, I pulled out my wand and aimed it at the intruder.

"Who are you, and how did you get in?" After assessing that he was unarmed, I had a good look at the intruder, and saw that he looked a great deal younger than me. His eyes, however, told a different story. They were greener that Harry's, but looked as if they had seen more than even Dumbledore.

"I'm England, and if you had gotten here earlier, I might have knocked,"

"Well, you're the one who- wait a second; did you say that your name was England?"

He gave me an impressed look. "You know, most of your predecessors just stared at me for a while, but you're the first one to actually respond first,"

This was getting annoying. "Okay, just tell me why you're in my office, and then we'll talk. I'm only willing to listen if you get to the point. I have a job, you know,"

"And so do I, it's my job that brought me here,"

"And what is your job, then? Is the fact that your name is England relevant to it?" I mean, it had to be a nickname or an alias.

"As a matter of fact, it is. You see, I'm the basically the incarnation of England, and I have to meet my bosses when they are inaugurated,"

Ah, that explains why he's here. "So what else do you have to tell me?"

From the look on his face, he respected me. "You're the first Minister to actually believe me when I said that."

"So it's not true?"

"No, it is true." He said quickly. "Anyway, I'll be dropping in at any time if something happens. By the way-" _Ringringring_. Was that a cell phone? "Hang on, hello?"

"IGGY! IJUSTWANTEDTOTALKTOYOUSOI-" Someone was shouting in an American accent on the other end. He was so loud; I could hear him from the other side of the room and England pulled the phone a meter away before yelling again.

"America! You're interrupting something important here; can't you keep your voice down? And stop calling me Iggy!" America? "I'm talking to my new boss here…Yes, I know how many you have [1]… I'm glad Voldemort's gone, too, I'll come… what do you mean, I get drunk on the first glass…"

"Excuse me, but I'm still here," I said irritably. It seemed to me that England had broken even with me by having this call.

"Sorry. I'll call you back when I'm done," he hung up. "What I was going to say was that you still have to meet the muggle Prime Minister. Yes, I know that you've been busy, but you still have to see him, it's for your own good."

The Prime Minister! I had forgotten all about him! "Thanks for reminding me," I ran into the fireplace that was hard-wired to go to the Prime Minister's office.

"Just so you know; he has a machine gun!" England called after me as I jumped into the emerald flames.

The office was just as I remembered it, marble tables and all. The Prime Minister was sitting at his desk doing paperwork with a ballpoint pen, exactly as I had foreseen. He turned to me. "So you're the- hang on a second, you're Kingsley!" Oh yeah, I had posed as his assistant a few years back.

"Er, hello," Man, this was awkward.

"So you're the new Minister of Magic? I hope you'll be alright," I couldn't tell if he meant if he was hoping that I'd be a good Minister, or if he just wanted me to be safe.

"Which do you mean?"

"Both. You were a great assistant- I mean… er… you do know what I mean, right?" So he was as awkward as I was in this situation! "I have to ask, but did you meet England yet?"

"I did. So… what should we talk about?"

"Er… I'm not sure exactly, I guess that we exchange news from our ends?" Oh yeah, normally the old Minister of Magic would tell the new one what to do with the Prime Minister, but Thicknesse had been Imperiused, so I was on my own. Additionally, from what I had overheard, it had seemed as if normally the Minister of Magic took charge.

"Erm, actually, what did happen to Voldemort?"

"Dead. Young Potter defeated him," I said with a touch of pride in my voice.

He looked terribly relieved. "Actually, I just thought that we could subscribe to each other's newspapers. That way, we could know about each other without having to visit as often. But we'll have to pay for each other; I haven't got any wizard money,"

I agreed that it was an excellent idea, and turned to leave.

"Oh, and by the way?" I heard the Prime Minister pick up something heavy behind me. "I can take care of myself now."

I had just enough time to see what he was holding in his hands as I left. It was a fully loaded machine gun.

[1] America's multiple bosses- Contrary to popular belief; the President is actually part of the Executive Branch, which had to be kept in balance with the other two branches to maintain the Union. Therefore, the President technically isn't America's boss. However, given the amount of bosses he would have had the Legislative Branch alone been counted, America would have several hundred bosses. That's probably why he went to the President when he found Tony's UFO.

Additionally, I didn't really have an understanding of Great Britain's political system when I first wrote this. I thought that the Minister of Magic was of equal importance to the Prime Minister, but then I found that the Prime Minister would outrank him. However, the Ministry of Magic is technically a government of its own, so England chose to go there.


End file.
